


make it right (make me tonight)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blood Drinking, Breathplay, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hunters & Hunting, M/M, Road Trips, VERY mild and he doesn't need to breathe so i mean., Vampire Hunters, Vampires, Violence, Werewolves, but speedrun, wrote this in 12 hours so i hope it doesn't SUCK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-08 23:40:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20985182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: The target is making this way too easy.Get in, do the job, get out, let the cleaners take care of the rest. It should be fine.(it's not fine.)





	make it right (make me tonight)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [softeldritch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/softeldritch/gifts).

> miranda says "it's my birthday" and my other friend brought up vampire aus not five minutes later, so i got on the grind and did this for most of the day. while i did try my best to include tropes i KNOW miranda softeldritch likes (sad nikolaj, monsterfuckery, more sad nikolaj, etc), this is fun for the whole family. you know what i mean.
> 
> i was about THREE minutes late getting this posted still on your bday. sorry miranda i'm a failure.
> 
> title from "atomic" by blondie

The target is making this way too easy. 

Patrik slips into an alleyway when the vamp tenses. It’s young, Patrik knows. An elder vampire wouldn’t make such foolish mistakes as letting Patrik track it down, much less follow it back to its roost. It’s too bad, really—Patrik doesn’t like killing the young ones, never has. But he can’t let them live. This one is no different, no matter how brainless it might be.

There’s a fire escape along the wall of the alley, and Patrik scales it quickly. His worn leather boots are soundless on the iron and he steps onto the roof. Careful not to let the gravel scrape under his feet, he moves to the edge of the building and looks down into the street. 

_ Perfect. _The vamp lives—hah—in the building next door. He watches it push the doors open and disappear inside. It won’t take it long to get to its apartment, a cramped place on the sixth floor. Patrik has to act fast. 

He jogs back to the other side of the roof and makes sure his grappling hook is secured to his belt before he sprints across the roof. Kicking off the edge, he launches himself over the gap and deploys the hook. The noise it makes when it hits the railing on the tiny balcony makes Patrik wince, but he pulls himself up and onto the balcony. He winds the rope around his waist and makes his way to the door.

_ Locked. _

It takes Patrik about twelve seconds to pick the cheap lock. The door squeaks when he slides it open and he grits his teeth. 

He prefers hunting _ rich _ vampires, whose hinges are always perfectly oiled and whose floorboards never creak. 

Patrik slips inside and closes the door behind him, locking it, then he creeps through the apartment to find a good ambush spot. He ends up behind the bedroom door—pretty basic, but young vamps especially never expect it.

The stake is heavy in his hand. The weight is as familiar as the back of his hand, smooth wood with an iron core and a leather-wrapped grip worn soft from years of use. He turns it so the point faces up, ready to be driven into the heart of the vampire when it returns.

Waiting is always the hard part. Patrik stands perfectly still, not letting his breathing shift his clothing and give him away too early. 

There’s a click from out in the main room, a key in the lock.

“—evator broke again,” the voice Patrik assumes belongs to the vamp says. “Can you—no? It’s not just for me, I mean—okay. Yes. I’ll get it to you this weekend, I promise. It won’t be like last time, that was a mistake.” Patrik wonders who—or what—it’s talking to. Its sire, maybe? Then, “You don’t have to raise the rent, I promise it won’t happen again. Nine-fifty. I know. Yeah.” There’s a pause, then a sigh. It ends shaky.

The vamp is still breathing. That’s unexpected. 

Shuffling footsteps draw nearer to the door and Patrik braces himself to attack, and then—the footsteps move past, to the bathroom. 

Patrik bites the inside of his cheek at the sound of a shower starting up. He keeps standing still, staring blankly into space while he waits for the water to go quiet and the footsteps to start up again. He traces his thumb over the golden lion stamped into the flat end of the stake.

_ We’re giving you a chance, Patrik, _ his father had said. _ Don’t let us down again. _

His grip tightens on the stake. There’s no room for failure here.

Finally, the shower turns off and Patrik sharpens up, ready to strike.

The vamp is humming softly to itself as it walks back down the hall.

The door swings open, almost bumping Patrik’s nose, then shut again. The vamp is dressed only in a towel, still humming its aimless tune. Patrik’s stomach twists.

The hum cuts off and its shoulders stiffen, but it’s too late now.

Patrik’s hand lands flat between its shoulder blades and_ pushes, _ shoving it forward into the wall. It cries out, unbalanced, and Patrik takes advantage of the moment to kick its legs out from under it.

It falls hard, but it’s still a vampire and it’s _ fast, _ crawling away as fast as it can. 

“Stop it!” it cries, turning unexpectedly to face Patrik. Its arms are raised to protect its head. Its nose is leaking someone else’s blood, dripping down its chin and onto its bare chest. “Please, I don’t have much but I’ll—I’ll give you whatever you want, just _ please _ don’t hurt me.” 

Patrik stares at it, stunned. He’s never heard a vampire _ beg _ before. It must be some kind of trick.

“I’m not here to rob you,” Patrik says slowly. 

The thing looks down at itself, then back up at Patrik, and somehow pales even more. “No—” it says, voice cracking in terror, but then it notices the stake in his hand.

“You have to die,” Patrik says, but he doesn’t feel the usual satisfaction at knowing he’s saving people from a monster. Instead, he looks into the terrified blue eyes of the vampire and feels _ guilty. _

“Please,” it whispers, voice hitching with sobs that it can’t force down. It squeezes its eyes shut, but that doesn’t stop the tears from slipping free and sliding down its cheeks. 

The stake slips from Patrik’s hand and onto the floor with a clatter. He stares at his hands. His fingers are trembling almost imperceptibly.

_ I’m sorry, _ he thinks, the faces of his family rising in his mind, _ I can’t. _

“What,” the vampire says, its voice hoarse and shaken, “What are you doing?”

Patrik scrubs a hand over his face. What _ is _ he doing? “Saving your life,” he says. “I think.” He takes two steps forward and reaches down to grasp the vampire’s arm and pull it up.

It flinches away from him anyway. “Don’t touch me,” it says, not threatening. Scared. 

“I’m sorry,” Patrik says. He steps back, holding his hands up non-threateningly. “I’m not—I’m supposed to hunt things like you.” That doesn’t seem to comfort it at all. Patrik kicks his stake and it rolls away, disappearing into the shadows under the bed. “I’m _ done _ now. I won’t hurt you, okay?” 

It—_ he _ hesitates. He looks towards the bed, like he thinks someone else might burst out with the stake in hand. “Okay,” he says finally. He swallows hard. 

“You might want to get dressed,” Patrik tells him. “We have about an hour until the clean-up team arrives and if you’re still here and—” _ alive, _“—intact, they’ll take care of that, too.” 

“What?” The vampire stares at him. The tear tracks are barely dry on his cheeks, but he’s already looking outraged. Patrik is sort of relieved. At least if he’s pissed, he’s probably not as scared anymore. “I have to _ leave?” _

“Unless you want to get staked and burned, yeah,” Patrik says. He turns away and goes to the closet. He grabs a hoodie at random and tosses it over his shoulder at the vampire. “Hurry up and get dressed. I know somewhere you’ll be safe, but I want us to have a head start.”

It’s a lie. All of Patrik’s safehouses are family safehouses. There’ll be people waiting for him anywhere he goes, but he can’t just leave now. He’s not letting this vampire die, not when he’s betrayed his family, everything he knows, to save him. 

“Can you give me some privacy?” the vampire asks, his voice strained. 

Patrik makes for the door, pausing at the threshold. “Don’t try the stake,” he advises. “It won’t work, and I don’t want to kill you.” 

The vampire looks at him guiltily. Patrik smirks and closes the door behind him.

He takes his phone out of his pocket, studies it. It’s no good—his phone is tapped. The vampire’s phone is still sitting on the table. 

Patrik picks it up and uses the emergency call to dial the number he needs.

“Hello?” Blake says. 

“Blake,” Patrik says, “it’s Patrik. I need your help.” 

Two minutes and one solid plan later, Patrik goes back to the vampire’s room. 

The vampire is kneeling on the floor, shoving some clothes in a backpack.

“Good,” Patrik says. “We have to hurry. The plane leaves soon.” 

“Plane?” The vampire’s hands freeze on his clothes.

“Yes,” Patrik says, impatient. “Do you have a passport?” 

“Yeah,” the vampire says, “but—” 

Patrik does _ not _ have time for this. “Get it,” he orders. “I’ll call a taxi to take us to the airport.”

“Where are we going?” The vampire zips up his backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. He seems to be remarkably recovered from his earlier panic.

“Canada,” Patrik says, and he calls the taxi. 

The two of them wait outside, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk. The streets are empty this late, the cool air refreshing after being in the tiny apartment.

“So,” the vampire says. His voice is soft in the stillness of the night. “What’s your name?” 

Patrik glances over at him.

The vampire is looking back, nothing in his expression except curiosity. The orange streetlights cast his features in dramatic shadow. Patrik’s eyes catch on the sharpness of his cheekbones and the arch of his eyebrows and he looks away. 

“My name is Patrik,” he says. It’s quiet for a moment.

“I’m Nikolaj,” the vampire says. “I wish I could say it was nice to meet you.” 

Patrik looks back at him sharply to see a flash of Nikolaj’s teeth as his lips curve up in a smile. He can’t stop himself from barking out a laugh, too surprised to see Nikolaj smiling. 

“We did get off on the wrong foot,” Patrik agrees. He studies Nikolaj’s face. “You seem to be okay now.”

Nikolaj shrugs and looks away, the smile melting off his face. Patrik can’t explain the twisting feeling in his chest at the sight of his frown. “You’re scary,” Nikolaj says, “but I was only bitten a few weeks ago.” His hand presses to the side of his neck unconsciously. “That was worse.”

“That’s why we hunt. _ Hunted,” _ Patrik corrects himself. “So innocent people don’t get hurt.” 

“Yeah, well.” Nikolaj smiles bitterly. “I don’t think I became a monster because she bit me.” 

Patrik doesn’t get a chance to reply before the taxi is pulling over.

He makes Nikolaj get in first and casts a look over the empty street.

He knows better than anyone that because something looks abandoned doesn’t mean that it is.

* * *

They’re only able to catch the flight because neither of them had any baggage to check. Unfortunately, Patrik doesn’t have any of his gear anymore. He had to leave his grappling hook and his knives in a bush outside the airport. All he has now is a satchel with a few toiletries and his water bottles. 

Patrik buckles his seatbelt, watching Nikolaj put his backpack in the overhead storage. His hoodie rides up a little bit, showing a strip of pale skin. Patrik digs his fingers into the armrests. 

_ Bad idea, _Patrik tells himself. It’s the worst idea, probably. 

Later, when the plane takes off and the turbulence jostles them, Nikolaj’s hand flies over to clutch Patrik’s over the armrest. Patrik looks at him sharply but Nikolaj’s eyes are closed, his brow furrowed. His fingers are bruisingly tight on Patrik’s, his skin unnaturally cold. 

“Hey,” Patrik whispers, leaning closer. “Don’t forget, you’re stronger than you used to be.” He rubs his thumb over the back of Nikolaj’s knuckles to remind him.

“Oh.” Nikolaj looks embarrassed, like he’d be blushing if he could. “Sorry, I didn’t realize.” He moves to take his hand away, but Patrik tightens his own fingers around Nikolaj’s.

“It’s alright,” Patrik says, “just try not to break my hand, okay?” He smiles and squeezes Nikolaj’s hand carefully.

Nikolaj smiles shyly. “Okay,” he says, and he shifts his hands enough to lace his fingers through Patrik’s. The plane jostles again, and Nikolaj jumps and keeps holding Patrik’s hand.

It’s strange, Patrik thinks, how he’d started the night trying to kill Nikolaj. Now they’re holding hands and he can’t stop thinking about that pale strip of skin he’d seen under his hoodie. 

It’s going to be a long flight.

Nikolaj doesn’t need to sleep and Patrik doesn’t want to, so they end up asking for earbuds to watch movies. Then Nikolaj’s break, and Patrik offers to share.

Now Nikolaj’s cheek is resting against Patrik’s arm while they watch a terrible action movie together. Nikolaj hasn’t stopped holding his hand.

Patrik hates his life, a little.

The flight is long and they have to stop in Toronto. Nothing goes to Winnipeg from Denmark and this is the closest Patrik could get. 

“Are we taking another plane?” Nikolaj asks. He’s starting to look a little pale around the edges.

Patrik catches his arm and pulls him into one of the bathrooms. 

“When was the last time you, you know. Ate anything.” He looks at Nikolaj significantly.

Nikolaj frowns. “A week and a half?” he guesses. His forehead wrinkles in a frown. “It was a squirrel, I think.” 

Patrik winces. Vampires can’t get diseases, but still. That’s pretty gross.

“I’ll find us a car,” Patrik says, “then we’ll find you some food.”

All of Patrik’s bank accounts have been frozen, but he anticipated that and had withdrawn all the cash he could when they were still in Denmark. He barely looks at the bills as he slides them across the counter in exchange for the keys. 

“Really?” Nikolaj says at the sight of the beige sedan. 

Patrik looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “Really?” he echoes. “You’re going to be a car snob _ now?” _ Like, his own tastes usually run towards sports cars, but come _ on. _

Nikolaj winces. “It doesn’t seem like a great, uh, getaway car?” 

“It has tinted windows.” Patrik pats the roof of the car before getting into the driver’s seat. “And it’s inconspicuous.”

“You can say that again,” Nikolaj mutters, but he gets in the car. 

“Seatbelt,” Patrik tells him, and smiles at the way Nikolaj grumbles at him before cooperating.

It’s going to be a long drive to Winnipeg.

* * *

Patrik drives for hours without stopping, pushing his luck with his speed until they’re well away from the cities. 

It’s still strange to Patrik, though he is hardly unfamiliar with it—the way the forest seems to go on forever here, sometimes. It’s as if the cities never existed in the first place and it’s only him and the road, going on and on towards some unknown.

It’s better now, he decides as Nikolaj turns up the volume on the radio, now that he’s got someone with him. 

They’re a little under halfway to Winnipeg when Patrik pulls off the main highway and into one of the many provincial parks along the highway. The sky is darkening at last, so it’s safe for them to open the doors without Nikolaj getting burned. 

“Can you kill something?” Patrik asks. 

Nikolaj stares. “What?” 

“I can track a deer for you, probably,” Patrik says, “but I don’t have a gun. Could you kill it?” 

“Oh,” Nikolaj says. He bites his lip, clearly not certain in his head, but Patrik can see the difference in his canines at the mere thought of feeding. “I think so.”

Patrik nods and leads him into the woods. 

It’s not yet dark enough that the ground isn’t visible, so once Patrik is able to find a game trail, it’s easy to track it until they reach a clearing. 

The two of them crouch behind a fallen tree and look at the doe grazing. Patrik can practically feel her vitality. Glancing over at Nikolaj, it’s obvious that he does, too. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, flashing his razor sharp teeth. Patrik has to stamp down the little jolt inside him that makes him want to reach for his stake.

Patrik nudges him to get his attention, then jerks his chin towards the deer and nods, just once. 

It’s enough for Nikolaj, who’s hungry enough that his reservations about appearing inhuman disappear and he’s a blur of motion over the grass. 

Patrik blinks and the deer is down, Nikolaj hunched over her with his mouth latched onto her throat. Patrik isn’t shocked, exactly, but he hadn’t been sure until now if Nikolaj would be able to do it. 

Nikolaj is full of surprises, it seems.

Once Nikolaj is finished, he sits back, a dazed sort of look on his face. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are bright. Patrik is struck with how beautiful he is—how _ alive. _His chin is smeared with blood and when he grins at Patrik his fangs are still down, but Patrik’s stomach flutters for an entirely different reason than fear. 

“Thanks, Patrik,” Nikolaj says. His smile softens into something warmer, less ferocious, and Patrik very suddenly wants to kiss him.

Funny how that happens. 

He nods, not sure what he would say if he tried speaking. Like, Nikolaj has had a long twenty four hours. The last thing he needs right now is Patrik wanting to fuck him and, like, hold his hand again.

“I’ll go wait in the car while you finish up here,” he says eventually, and he sits in the driver’s seat with music playing softly, taking careful sips from his steel water bottle. 

When Nikolaj comes back, the blood is gone and his face and hands are wet like he’d washed them in a stream. There’s still some on his shirt, so Patrik tries not to stare while he changes. 

He fails. Instead, his eyes trace the lines of Nikolaj’s shoulders, his waist, the dimples in his lower back visible where his waistband rides a little too low. 

Patrik wants to get his mouth on them. He looks away before Nikolaj turns back. 

Nikolaj is in much better spirits now that he’s fed and the sun has gone down, but Patrik isn’t going to drive all through the night. 

He pulls into a parking lot at a motel in one of the towns on the edge of Lake Superior. 

“Wait here,” Patrik says before he gets out of the car. 

The old man at the desk looks up at Patrik when he opens the door, slowly chewing his gum. 

“One room with two beds, please,” Patrik says, pulling out his wallet. 

The old man looks at him, then squints at his computer screen. 

“None of those left, I’m afraid,” he says. “Most of our rooms are full tonight.”

Patrik stares in vaguely disturbed fascination at the sideways motion of the man’s jaw as he chews his gum. 

“Do you have, uh.” Patrik winces at an especially loud _ smack _ from the man’s gum. “Any other rooms?” 

The man leans into his computer again, blue light reflecting off his glasses. “Just one,” he says. “Single queen.” 

Patrik thinks about getting back in the car and driving another eleven hours. The idea of it makes his legs cramp. He pulls the cash out of his wallet and takes the keycard. 

He steps back outside and motions for Nikolaj to follow him, leading him down to their room. “This is all they had left,” he says apologetically and opens the door. 

“Oh,” Nikolaj says. “Well, um. I don’t technically need to sleep, so.” He bites his lip and Patrik can see the longing in his eyes. Vampires might not _ need _ to sleep, eat or breathe, but it’s hard for them to give up habits so easily.

Patrik sighs. “We can share,” he says. “I don’t care.” He does. 

“Okay,” Nikolaj says, and even in the dim light from the bedside lamp, Patrik can see the pink in his cheeks. 

Nikolaj tosses his bag on the bed, which reminds Patrik that he has nothing other than the clothes on his back and no weapons to speak of. 

“You stay here,” Patrik says. “I have to go buy a few things. I won’t be long.”

Nikolaj nods, already picking up one of the towels at the foot of the bed. 

The town is small and it’s getting late, but Patrik is able to find a hunting store and get some clothes and knives. None of them can replace his stake, but Patrik figures anything that comes for him at this point will be very much killable. 

Patrik piles his stuff into the trunk of the car, wanting to go back to the hotel to shower off the stale feeling of being in cramped vehicles for the better part of the last two days. 

He’s fiddling with the car keys when movement catches his eye, a shadowy reflection in the window. 

A lifetime of training keeps him alive as he ducks without thinking and the stake shatters the window instead of his back. 

Patrik rolls, asphalt digging into his palms, and he pulls one of his new knives out of his boot before facing his attacker.

The hunter flips his stake and Patrik catches sight of the blue eagle on the bottom—an American family.

“Traitor.” The man spits at his feet. “Your parents have a great bounty for you, did you know? Dead or alive. Hah.” 

Patrik bares his teeth, fury burning hot in his veins, but he doesn’t move. He waits for the hunter to attack him first. 

The hunter does not disappoint. He leaps forward, but he keeps his stake too close to his body to make grabbing for his arm an efficient countermeasure. He’s been well trained, Patrik realizes. This might be harder than he thought, though he should’ve known by the simple fact that an American hunter was granted permission to hunt on Canadian territory. 

Patrik ignores his doubts. It doesn’t matter. He was the best hunter Finland has produced in a generation and he’s not going to let this man kill him. 

The knife flashes in his hand as the hunter inches towards him. 

The parking lot is empty, but Patrik knows that could change any second. He has to finish this fast.

If they continue this slow circling of each other, this fight could last all night. There aren’t very many options left.

Patrik throws his knife.

The hunter dodges it easily, as expected, but it distracts him enough that Patrik can lunge forward and tackle him to the ground. 

The hunter stabs at him, and Patrik twists enough that he’s only scraped by the point. He ignores the pain and grabs the man’s wrist. His fingers slip just enough for the man to twist and shove him off.

Patrik hits the asphalt hard, dazed enough that he can’t recover in time to keep the hunter from jumping on him, stake driving towards his chest. 

Patrik catches his wrists at the last second, pushing against the force of the downswing. The point of the stake is close enough to his chest that it presses against his skin with each inhale.

The pain in Patrik’s side is getting harder to ignore. The hunter’s mouth twists into an expression of vicious delight and he redoubles his efforts.

It would be easy to let go, Patrik thinks. Save himself the trouble of being on the run for the rest of his life. His hands loosen slightly and the stake digs into his skin, and this time blood wells up.

Then he thinks of Nikolaj, waiting alone in the motel room. This hunter isn’t going to stop with Patrik—he’ll go to the motel next, find which room Nikolaj’s in. Nikolaj might think it’s Patrik coming back and let him inside. 

The image of Nikolaj with a stake driven into his chest, bloodied and small on the floor, makes Patrik’s anger blaze to life and with a new burst of strength, he shoves the hunter up and off him.

The hunter looks stunned. Patrik jabs a finger into his wrist and makes him release the stake. 

This stake is heavier than Patrik’s was and there’s silver embedded into the surface of the metal. The base is carved wood. 

Patrik stabs the hunter in the chest.

He finds his knife and gets in the car. He has to sweep the broken glass off the seat first, then he drives away. 

He’s lost—well, no amount of blood is a good amount to lose, but he’s probably lost more than he should. 

He makes himself take his stuff from the trunk inside. He might need those weapons.

Raising his arm to unlock the door takes an alarming amount of effort, but he manages and stumbles inside. He drops his bags right away. 

“Patrik?” Nikolaj steps out of the bathroom. He’s wearing a loose T-shirt and boxers, his damp hair curling at the ends. The backlight from the bathroom makes him look _ angelic. _

_ Angelic? A vampire? _Patrik’s mouth twists into a smile at the thought. 

“Got, uh,” Patrik’s mouth is too dry, “in a fight.” He sways on his feet, but Nikolaj is there before he can fall. 

Nikolaj half-carries him to the bathroom and helps him lie in the bathtub. Patrik’s arms are pretty much numb, but Nikolaj manages to pull his jacket and shirt off anyway.

“Fuck,” Nikolaj breathes, fear in his eyes. 

“Worse than it felt?” Patrik guesses. It feels harder to open his eyes after blinking. He’s so _ thirsty. _ “Nikolaj,” he manages, “my bag. There are some water bottles. Can you—?” 

“Really? Now?” 

“Do it,” Patrik says, his voice sharp, and he sags against the tile wall while Nikolaj leaves the bathroom.

“I found it,” Nikolaj says, holding up a silver water bottle. He passes it to Patrik.

It’s difficult, but Patrik manages to unscrew the cap and he tips his head back, taking a long drink. 

“Oh, fuck,” Nikolaj whispers. “No, you can’t be, you—” 

Patrik empties the bottle and sets it down, wiping a hand over his mouth. 

It comes away smeared with red. 

He’s already feeling better, the fresh blood helping his wounds heal faster. The bleeding in his side has slowed to a near-stop and the mark on his chest is virtually invisible. 

Nikolaj is gaping at him, his face pale and eyes huge. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Patrik says, because he probably should have—should have told Nikolaj _ I’m like you, you don’t have to be alone anymore. _

“But,” Nikolaj’s throat works and Patrik can’t stop himself from tracking the motion, “you were a hunter.”

Patrik pushes himself out of the bathtub, stepping over to the sink to scrub off the worst of the blood. “How do you think I got turned?” he asks, unable to stop the bitterness from slipping into his voice. “You were supposed to be my last chance, you know. Chance to prove myself, prove that I was really on their side, or whatever. They didn’t want to give me a chance. I guess they should’ve staked me when they still had me.”

“Patrik,” Nikolaj says, and Patrik can tell that he understands why Patrik didn’t tell him. “I’m sorry,” he says.

Patrik shakes his head. “It isn’t your fault,” he says and smiles crookedly. His fangs are still down and he notices Nikolaj’s eyes drop to look. “Besides,” he says, taking a chance, “if I hadn’t been turned, I never would’ve met you.” 

Nikolaj sucks in a breath, his eyes flicking back up to Patrik’s. “Patrik,” he says, hesitant, “do you really mean—”

“Yes,” Patrik says, and he waits for Nikolaj to do something. 

Nikolaj doesn’t disappoint. He takes three quick steps forward and gets his hands in Patrik’s hair to pull him down to kiss him. Patrik kisses him back hard, gripping his waist tightly. Nikolaj doesn’t seem interested in taking things slow, tongue slipping into Patrik’s mouth where the taste of blood still lingers. 

Both of them fed today, both of them have fresh blood in their bodies, and Patrik can almost feel the ghost of his heartbeat thumping in his chest as he breaks away to look down at Nikolaj. 

Nikolaj’s face is flushed, his skin so much warmer than it had been on the plane. 

Patrik cups his face, brushing his thumbs over Nikolaj’s cheekbones. 

“Niky,” he murmurs, and Nikolaj’s gaze drops as his flush deepens. “Niky, look at me.”

Nikolaj drags his gaze away from the floor to look Patrik in the eyes. He swallows hard as Patrik brushes a thumb over his throat. “Patrik,” he says, his voice trembling. 

Patrik kisses him again, leaving his hand resting on Nikolaj’s throat. Nikolaj shivers and melts against him. Patrick gets an arm around his back, then carefully scoops him up with his other arm below Nikolaj’s knees. Nikolaj laughs, breathless and startled, and the expression on his face makes Patrik’s unbeating heart twist. 

Nikolaj doesn’t weigh very much, so it’s easy to carry him out of the bathroom. Well, it would be easier if he stopped kissing Patrik’s neck, but it’s fine.

“Oof,” Nikolaj says when Patrik tosses him onto the bed. He doesn’t take long to recover, pulling off his shirt and tossing it onto the floor. His hands pause at the waistband of his boxers and he looks at Patrik hesitantly. 

Patrik grins at him and unbuckles his belt. Nikolaj blushes and wriggles out of his boxers, kicking them across the room.

Nikolaj’s skin is warm and soft under Patrik’s hands, responding to the smallest touch by arching into it, gasping. He wraps his legs around Patrik’s waist and winds his fingers into his hair. Patrik kisses under his jaw, the same spot where there’d usually be a pulse. 

He sets his teeth against it, just the barest hint of his fangs, and Nikolaj squeaks. His hips jerk as he claws at Patrik’s shoulders. 

“Please,” he gasps, “please, Patty, come on.” He waits for Patrik to kiss him again, then he bites Patrik’s bottom lip. 

Patrik fists a hand in his hair and yanks his head back, frowning at him. Nikolaj doesn’t seem to notice, his eyes falling shut at the way Patrik pulls his hair. His throat works as he swallows and Patrik presses a kiss to it.

Nikolaj whines. 

“Niky,” Patrik murmurs, relishing the way Nikolaj shivers at the name, “can I fuck you?” 

Nikolaj’s fingers dig into Patrik’s back hard enough that they’ll probably leave bruises. “Yes,” he says, his voice raw, “yes, please, yes—” He makes a plaintive noise when Patrik pushes off him to stumble to his bag. 

Patrik manages to find lube in his toiletry bag, exactly where he thought it’d be, then he hurries back to the bed to push Nikolaj’s legs apart. Nikolaj welcomes him back with a biting kiss, his fangs two bright points of pain on Patrik’s mouth. 

Nikolaj makes a muffled noise into Patrik’s mouth when Patrik presses a hand against his throat again. He clutches at Patrik’s wrist, but not like he wants him to stop. Besides, he doesn’t need to breathe—there’s just something about the way his mind _ remembers. _Nikolaj’s fingers dig into Patrik’s skin, pale against the dark ink of Patrik’s tattoo.

Patrik takes his hand away, letting Nikolaj sag against the pillows while he slicks up his fingers. He shoves a pillow under Nikolaj’s hips before sliding down and taking Nikolaj’s dick in his mouth.

_ “Patrik.” _ Nikolaj’s voice breaks and his fingers slip on Patrik’s shoulders. 

Patrik holds Nikolaj’s hips down with his left arm, sliding a finger against Nikolaj’s hole and making him moan. He presses his finger in, careful to keep his fangs covered as Nikolaj tries to buck his hips.

Nikolaj is easy for it, rocking against Patrik’s hand until he slips another finger in. He’s so loud, too, whining and gasping and cursing until Patrik sits back before leaning up to kiss him quiet.

“You’re so pretty, Niky,” Patrik says, eyes locked on Nikolaj’s. 

Nikolaj’s mouth falls open silently as Patrik slides a third finger into him and curls them against his prostate. He bites his lip, eyes fluttering shut and fangs leaving white marks on his skin. “Please,” Nikolaj whispers, his voice shaking, “please, Patrik.” 

How can Patrik say no to_ that? _ He pulls his fingers out, swallowing hard at the way Nikolaj whimpers softly. He slicks up his cock and lines himself up. Nikolaj pulls him down to kiss him when he pushes in, his moan vibrating against Patrik’s lips.

Patrik has to wait for a minute, pressing his forehead to Nikolaj’s while they catch their breath. As soon as Nikolaj starts rolling back against Patrik’s dick, Patrik pulls out almost all the way before he thrusts back in.

It’s almost like Nikolaj used up all his noises while Patrik opened him up. Now, all he can manage are soft, punched-out sounds every time Patrik fucks into him. He clutches at Patrik’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the lion on Patrik’s arm. 

Patrik kisses his neck, then up to his cheekbone. He tastes salt on his lips and when he opens his eyes, Nikolaj has tears on his cheeks. 

“Nikolaj,” Patrik says, brushing the tears away with his thumb. “Niky, what’s wrong?” 

Nikolaj shakes his head desperately, making Patrik kiss him again instead of answering.

Patrik doesn’t stop, curling one of his hands into Nikolaj’s hair while he fucks him. He can tell he’s getting close, that heat building in his belly as he gets closer to the edge unchanged since he turned.

He redoubles his efforts, wanting to get Nikolaj off before he comes. Patrik fucks him harder, aiming for his prostate and curling his fingers loosely around his throat. He squeezes carefully, just once, and Nikolaj’s back bows off the bed as he comes, shaking.

Patrik thrusts into him one last time, then drops his head to Nikolaj’s shoulder as he comes, grinding deep into him. There’s the sharp smell of blood in the air—Nikolaj bit into his lip too hard and broke the skin, a thin stream of blood trickling down his chin. 

He pulls out, pressing his lips to the sweaty hair at Nikolaj’s temple. Nikolaj shivers and tries to wipe his face with shaking hands while Patrik gets up and walks unsteadily to the bathroom to wash his hands and get a cloth.

Nikolaj hasn’t moved when Patrik comes back, still sprawled on the bed with an arm thrown over his face. He twitches when Patrik wipes him off, pushing his thighs up where Patrik’s come is slick on his skin. He drops the cloth on the floor, not wanting to go back to the bathroom right now, then he slides back into bed with Nikolaj. He’s pliant and loose, letting Patrik pull him close. He finally moves, tucking his head under Patrik’s chin.

Patrik tangles his fingers with Nikolaj’s on his chest, resting over where his heartbeat used to be. He lifts his other hand to pet Nikolaj’s hair. “What happened?” he asks, voice quiet.

“Ever since I was turned,” Nikolaj starts, hesitant, “I thought—I thought I was a monster. Nobody would ever lo—would ever want a monster. I thought I was going to be alone forever, but the way you touched me, it wasn’t… it’s not how someone touches a monster.” 

“You’re not a monster, Nikolaj,” Patrik says, squeezing his hand. “You’re a good person.” 

“Mmm,” Nikolaj hums against his skin. “That goes for you, too.” 

They don’t need to sleep, but it’s so easy to drift off with Nikolaj still-warm and soft in his arms.

* * *

It takes another full day of driving to get to Winnipeg. 

They clean the motel room as best they can before they leave, shower together until the water runs cold and finish Patrik’s bottled blood before brushing their teeth in the tiny bathroom. Patrik laughs at Nikolaj’s grumbling about flossing with fangs. 

Nikolaj wears the flannel shirt and hunting jacket Patrik got for himself yesterday to shield himself from the sun on the way to the car. They’re both too big on him, but he doesn’t seem to mind, tipping his head against the window and tucking his nose into the collar of the jacket.

Patrik stares out the windshield and tries to focus on driving. 

It’s still a long way to Manitoba. 

The sun is setting again when they get to Winnipeg. Patrik bypasses the exit to go into the city, going north instead. 

He stops outside of a gated dirt road. He leans out the broken window, sticks two fingers in his mouth, and whistles as loud as he can.

It’s not long until the gate opens and Patrik drives down the road until a cluster of cabins come into view, some of them with smoke rising from the chimneys. He parks the car up on the hill and leads Nikolaj down to the cabins.

The air smells of something cooking over a fire, carried by a cool breeze. The water of the small lake ripples in the wind. 

Something barks and Patrik turns to see a very small wolf puppy racing towards them. It trips over its own paws and tumbles into the dirt. A man rushes over and picks it up, and the puppy changes into a toddler.

“Sorry, guys,” Blake says, “they’re usually a lot more well behaved than this.” Then his nose catches up with his eyes and he looks between Nikolaj and Patrik with wide eyes. “Oh,” he says, careful. “I think we should go inside.” 

Blake’s kids are sleeping in a pile in front of the fireplace, some wolves and some not.

“So you hunt vampires,” Nikolaj says slowly, leaning closer to Patrik while Blake pours them water, “but werewolves are fine?” 

“I—”

“We have a treaty,” Blake interrupts. “It was easier for us. We live in packs, not alone like vampires. We can gather most of our people when we need to.” His eyes cut to Patrik, then back to Nikolaj. “And we needed to.” 

Patrik stares at his hands. 

Blake sets three glasses of water on the table. 

“It’s ancient history now,” Blake says, shrugging. “And I owe you a favour. Tell me what’s happening.” 

Patrik tells him everything.

Well. Not _ everything_-everything. Some of that is private.

He tells Blake about being turned, about Nikolaj being his last chance to prove himself and the way he couldn’t do it. He explains how they came here, the only place Patrik could think of as a sanctuary that none of the hunters own any part of. He tells him about the American hunter who attacked him and what he said about the bounty. 

Patrik tells him how he killed the hunter with his own stake. 

“If there’s a hunters’ bounty out on you,” Blake says slowly, “I don’t know if I can help.” He looks helplessly at his children, then back at them. “You can stay for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll talk more.” He gets up and collects the empty glasses, taking them to the kitchen without another word. 

Patrik follows him. 

“Blake,” he says, trying to keep the urgency from spilling into his voice even though it’s useless. “Is there nothing you can do?” 

Blake shakes his head. “We’re far from the most influential pack,” he says, smiling bitterly. “Your family might listen, but the other hunters? The bounty has already been set. They won’t stop.” He’s right. “You smell like each other,” Blake says unexpectedly. 

Patrik frowns. “I thought vampires didn’t have smells.” Actually, Adam had told him they _ smell like the dirt in a grave, _but Adam says stupid stuff all the time.

“Of course you do,” Blake says. “It’s just different.” He returns to washing the dishes. “You can have Adam and Brandon’s old cabin tonight.” 

“Wait, _ old _ cabin?” Patrik frowns. What does _ that _ mean?

Blake looks like he wishes he hadn’t said anything. “Brandon’s gone away for a while,” is all he says, and it sounds like a dismissal.

Adam and Brandon’s cabin always felt homey, cozy and warm and it always smelled the best. Now, it’s cold and missing so many of the things that gave it life before. It feels wrong to be here. 

“So did these guys, like, break up?” Nikolaj asks. He swipes a finger over a countertop, coming away with a dusty gray smudge on his skin. 

“I don’t think they can,” Patrik says, not really sure how the intricacies of werewolf packs work. “Wolves mate for life, you know?” 

Nikolaj hums his acknowledgement. He fiddles with a wooden carving of a bear, something Brandon had made for Adam before they’d ever gotten together. Patrik wants to leave. They’re not supposed to be here, not in this place that was made to be a home and somehow forgot that.

“What about vampires?” Nikolaj blurts.

It’s been long enough that Patrik has to think about what he’s asking for a moment. “I don’t know,” he answers finally. “Usually the ones who are hunted are loners. The ones who aren’t hunted live pretty much forever, so it’s impossible to tell.”

Nikolaj nods slowly in understanding. He opens his mouth to speak, then a howl comes from outside, something urgent and desperate obvious even to vampires.

The two of them hurry outside. A wolf with fur so dark it’s almost black and sharp blue eyes is circling in the centre of the square. It howls again. The other werewolves appear on their porches, some of them already in their wolf-shapes. 

Blake runs over to Patrik and Nikolaj, his face pale. “Your people have come for you,” he tells them. “They’re asking for your lives, or else they’ll kill everyone here.” 

“What about just mine?” Patrik asks, ignoring the way Nikolaj turns to stare at him. “I give myself up, let Nikolaj go free, and your pack is safe. I’m the traitor. I’m the reason they’re here.” 

“I don’t know,” Blake answers, “but it doesn’t matter.”

Patrik looks at him sharply.

“They’re not taking either of you.” Blake’s eyes flash. “Come with me.” 

The pack isn’t all here, but the ones who are are all in their wolf-shapes, lips curled and fur fluffed out.

Blake stays in his human shape and leads them up the hill. There is a group of hunters on the other side of the gate. There are no more of them than there are wolves, but it’s still a _ lot _ of hunters considering hunters never work in groups larger than three. 

“Well, Wheeler?” Patrik doesn’t recognize the hunter who speaks. Her voice is icy cold, a threat coiled beneath each word.

Blake bares his teeth. “Nobody can threaten my pack and get away with it. Every wolf in the world would know what you did here. No hunter would ever be safe in the wild again, no matter what protection you think your treaty gives you.” 

The blue-eyed wolf who had raised the alarm growls. _ Mark, _Patrik realizes suddenly. 

“We hunted werewolves once,” says the lead hunter, “we can do it again. Are you really willing to risk your entire species for a pair of worthless leeches?”

Nikolaj flinches. Patrik reaches over and takes his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“What are _ you _ willing to risk?” Blake asks, his voice like the cracking of ice on a frozen lake. In his voice, Patrik can hear the whole bloody history between hunters and werewolves. It had been a war in all but name that had lasted for centuries. Waging a secret war _ now, _ in the twenty-first century would be a stupendously bad idea. 

Blake knows that. He knows the hunters don’t want another war, and he’s willing to bet his family’s lives on it.

The hunter has no answer. 

“Remove the bounty,” Blake says, authority in his voice. “Let them live. If they ever kill someone,” Blake glances at Patrik, amusement in his eyes, “then feel free to hunt them down.”

“And what would you do?” asks the hunter. “Start a war over them?”

“Yes,” Blake answers without hesitating. “I would.” It’s not about just them. It’s about every innocent vampire, every Nikolaj, who has been hunted and killed for something they never did. 

Patrik feels very proud to be standing with Blake now.

“Very well,” the hunter says. “It will be done.” She levels a look at all of them. Patrik has a feeling that while it may be over today, this isn’t the last they’ll hear of the hunters.

The pack watches silently as the hunters pile into their vehicles and drive off, leaving no trace that they were ever there. 

“Thank you,” Patrik says to Blake, knowing Blake can hear how much he means it. 

Blake smiles. “Of course,” he says, reaching out to pat them both on the shoulders. “You always help your packmates.” With that, he turns and walks back down the hill. 

“Um,” Nikolaj says, “did we just become honorary werewolves?” 

Patrik frowns at Blake’s retreating back. “I think,” he says slowly, “you might be right.” 

Nikolaj snorts a laugh, making Patrik start laughing too. Patrik pulls Nikolaj close to hold him upright when he looks like he’s about to fall down laughing. Nikolaj clutches at Patrik’s jacket, burying his face in his chest. Patrik’s arms circle his shoulders, holding him tight as he starts to cry. 

“Niky,” he murmurs, a lump rising in his throat. 

“I’m just,” Nikolaj gasps, trying to catch his breath, “we’re safe, Patrik. We’re not alone.”

Patrik kisses his forehead, his cheeks, his upturned nose and his lips. “We’re safe,” Patrik promises. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

They lace their fingers together and start off down the hill. 

“Patrik?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever thought about, you know. Testing that thing about how long vampires mate for?” 

Patrik doesn’t even try to suppress his grin. “I hadn’t,” he answers, “but I wouldn’t mind finding out with you, if you want.” 

Nikolaj’s smile tells him all he needs to know.

**Author's Note:**

> luv you miranda did you guess this was your bday present when i was tweeting about it :3c
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
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